The End
by tivaXshipper
Summary: When Hermione's emotions become too much she decides to end it all. Set in Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince. TRIGGER WARNING! Read and Review. xo


**Just a depressing one shot.**

**Read and review.**

**xo**

**xxx**

The End

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She stood on the top of the astronomy tower. She had been there for hours; her tears had long run dry but she still hadn't made up her mind. It was a weird feeling for Hermione; she always knew what to do.

So many things had driven her to this. The pressure of always being perfect, always being smartest. The teasing she endured for being intelligent and actually wanting to do well at school.

This had been building up for a long time, but a fight with Ron had finally pushed her over the edge.

She knew that she had to end her pain. There was nothing left to do but jump. She knew people would miss her, but she also knew that they would eventually forget about her. She had finally made up her mind and there was no backing out now.

The smoke from her last cigarette rose into the air and curled around. It looked beautiful against the dark night sky. She lifted it to her lips and took a drag. She held the smoke in for as long as she could. She savoured this cigarette; she knew it would be her last. She always smoked in secret; her friends didn't know she smoked. It was a nasty habit she had picked up in the summer between her third and fourth year. She knew it was disgusting but the calm she felt from smoking was amazing and she would never give it up.

She took a couple more puffs and the cigarette was truly finished. She dropped it to the floor, placed her foot on it and twisted her leg to put it out. She didn't bother to pick it up; she would leave it behind, a last reminder of her pain, of her.

She looked down at her bare forearms. She hadn't worn short sleeves for so long; she couldn't. The reminders of every bad night, every bad memory was laid out on her arms. They were also on her legs and her torso but they were the worse on her arms. Her battle with self harm had been a long one but she had needed it to survive.

She thought back to her very first cut, the one she regretted the most. To be honest it was more of a scratch than a cut. She didn't know what had made her take her scissors to her arms but it had felt so right. It was a month before she got her letter for Hogwarts. She had no friends and was known as a know-it-all. She just wanted to feel better. When she saw her scissors she just had an urge to hurt herself. She had heard some older girls talking about it at "muggle school" and thought it was a good idea. Now she knew how wrong she was.

When she got her letter for Hogwarts she swore things would be different and she promised herself she would never do it again. She still took her scissors just in case, so she knew she would never become too overwhelmed. When she got to Hogwarts nothing was different, she still had no friends and was still so very unhappy. She was relieved when Harry and Ron had become her friends; she thought it would slow down her cutting. But she had come to rely on cutting to take away the pressure she felt as well as the pain. She didn't stop cutting, in fact she probably started to cut more. She needed to always be perfect and that put a lot of pressure on her and cutting relieved some of it.

Her friends never found out her secret. When they were young they were naive enough to believe her lies that she just got into a lot of accidents; at a school full of magic and dangerous things, accidents happened a lot. When they got older and Hermione brought Crookshanks it was so much easier to hide. "Oh, it was just Crookshanks," she would say.

She hated lying to her friends but she had to; cutting was too important to her for people to find out and possibly make her stop.

She thought about her friends and felt a twinge of guilt. Maybe she should have left a note or something to explain everything but then she realised that there was no point; everything they needed to know could be found out by looking at her body or her personal possessions.

The wind picked up and whipped through her hair. It was time. She walked to the edge of the tower. She tried to remember all the times she was happy, but the bad memories were too powerful to forget. She bent her knees and pushed off the ground. She also pushed away from the tower; she didn't want anything to prevent her from dying.

The last thing she felt before hitting the ground was a massive rush of adrenaline. A rush of adrenaline and then nothing. She was gone. Dead. Her lifeless body lay on the grass. She looked peaceful, happy even. And there she stayed to be found in the morning.

**xxx**

**If you are struggling with self harm, eating disorders, suicidal thoughts or just anything please speak up. There is help out there and you will feel so much better for speaking up. Please don't end your life. You have so much to live for. xx.**


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